Defining Relationships
by haleigh.l
Summary: Steph has a bad day. Ranger shows up. Rating for language and smut and I just gave away the ending - lol .


_Rating for language and smut. Still don't own them, make no profit (damn!). Happy birthday Lisa :)_

. . . .

I'd had the day from hell, and all I wanted to do was crash. I was sick to death of skips who were faster than me and idiot junkies I had to chase after and Vinnie the sicko. Only the humiliation of being forced to cluck like a chicken kept me from quitting in a huff and getting a better job at Cluck in a Bucket.

I jammed my toothbrush into my mouth and winced when it hit the inside of my cheek. I was brushing, my whole arm moving in a furious motion that was sure to leave my gums bleeding, when Ranger materialized in the mirror behind me.

"Son of a Bitch!" I yelled, spraying toothpaste all over the mirror. "Do you ever knock?"

He grinned and wiped away the bits of white foam at the edge of my mouth. "Heard you had a rough day."

I slurped a handful of water and spit. "Rough doesn't even come close." I brushed past him, into the bedroom. I didn't care if he watched - I yanked my filthy shirt over my head and let it fall to the carpet. "Vinnie is a perv. And he's insane."

"Was that in question?"

I glanced over my shoulder. Ranger was standing in the doorway, leaning back, arms and ankles crossed. His eyes were trained on me, trailing over my bare back, heating my skin inch by slow inch. When he met my gaze, his eyes were black, filled with an emotion somewhere between possession and lust.

I swallowed hard and tried to remember the question. The temptation to jump him, forget the day, was strong. I grabbed a tank top out of my drawer and pulled it on. "No. We all knew he was pervy. So today he sends me after Calvin Johnson."

There was no audible reaction from Ranger behind me, but even without looking at him, I knew he was angry. I could feel the tension radiating off him.

"So Calvin the Pimp assumes that I'm his new girl. You can imagine how well that went over."

"I'll take care of it," Ranger said, his voice tight.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't worry, I set him straight." I unbuttoned my jeans and wiggled my ass until they feel to the floor.

"Vinnie or the pimp?"

"Both." I stepped out of the jeans and bent to grab a pair of shorts from the floor. This time there was an audible reaction as Ranger sucked in a breath. Before I could get the shorts on, he was behind me, his fingers settling on my hips, dipping under the string of my thong.

His lips brushed my ear when he spoke. "How'd you do that?"

I had to fight to concentrate. His fingers were drumming over my skin, his touch gentle. "Vinnie I just yelled out until he went back into his office with this tail between his legs."

His fingers moved lower. "And the pimp?"

"I shot him."

Ranger froze for a split second before he chuckled. My back was plastered to his front, sending the vibrations from his laughter through me. I had the urge to turn around and hug him, to bury my face in his chest, inhale the smell of him and Bulgari, and stay there forever.

"Where'd you shoot him?"

"In the foot."

"Witnesses?"

"Nope."

His lips settled against my temple. "Babe." He was still chuckling, but I was pretty sure that he was proud of me. He pulled me tighter and I could feel how hard he was.

"Is that because I stripped or because I shot someone?"

He chuckled again. "I'm pretty sure it's just you in general."

Maybe it was the day from hell or maybe it was his hands still low on my hips, but I was feeling brave. "Whatca gonna do about it?"

"Anything you'll let me do." His teeth closed over my earlobe and bit down, sending heat spiraling through my belly. "My vote is to rip this off—" he tugged at the strings on the thong "—throw you down on the bed and fuck you until you scream."

My knees buckled, but he had a tight enough grip on me that I didn't fall. I sucked in a shuddering breath. Why did I play these games with him? "This isn't fair. You're a better bluffer than I am."

His lips were against my ear. "Who said I was bluffing?"

I rolled my eyes. "You're the one with the 'no relationships' rule."

I craned my neck over my shoulder to see him. The look on his face could only be described as bland. But instead of the remote coldness, it was impish bland. It reminded me of a little boy with a frog in his pocket. "Who said I have a 'no relationships' rule?"

"You did!"

His arms tightened around me from behind, anchored me to his body, tight enough now that I couldn't turn to see him.

"I didn't say that." His words froze me, stopped me from fighting against his arms. I wanted to see him, see his face, so I could gage the truthfulness of his words.

Blind trust wasn't something I did well.

But his lips were against my ear, and though I couldn't see his face, I could hear the emotion in his voice. "If you think about it, we already have a relationship."

My breath hitched and my stomach plummeted to the floor. What we had was a friendship. Was that enough for him? It didn't come close to being enough for me.

"The question," he said, his voice low, "is if it's enough of one?"

The word 'no' was sitting on the tip of my tongue, hanging there like something bitter I needed to spit out.

I couldn't.

He squeezed my hips, waiting for an answer. "Stephanie," he said, the word drawn out.

"What?"

His cheek brushed against mine, a sandpaper texture at the end of the day. "Is what we have now enough for you?"

_No. _ The word was right there. Begging to be said aloud. It wasn't enough. Nothing would be enough until I had his heart. Until he had mine.

"Is it enough for you?" I said.

He chuckled, amused by my juvenile side-stepping. But his voice was low and sure when he said the one word that we both needed so badly to hear but only he had the courage to say. "No. Not even close."

I sagged against him, my breath coming out in a rush. "Me neither."

"I can't stand it anymore," he said. "Every time I see you with him. Every night I lie in bed and imagine his hands on you."

His voice was thick with emotion. I tried to turn around again, but he held me fast.

"I want you, Stephanie, but I don't share well. I have to know you won't go back to him."

There were no promises. He offered nothing. I leaned back against him, felt his heart beating at my back. Felt his breath on my cheek.

Did it matter?

I tried to smile. "You want me all to yourself?"

"Oh yeah."

"What do I get in return?"

I could hear the smile in his voice. "Everything."

I spun around to face him – the second I did, the blank mask dropped over his eyes. "Oh no you don't. You don't get to say that when my back is turned."

He smiled. "Did you want me to take it back?"

"No!"

He pulled me against him. My hands settled on his chest, felt his heart beating under my fingers. Strong and steady. Sure. His head lowered and his lips found mind, clung, promised everything his words didn't.

"I love you," he said, so close it was a kiss.

Moment of truth. He was waiting and I knew that it all came down to this. I had to choose a path, and there would be no second chances. His heart beat under my fingers and I knew I only needed this one chance. "I love you too."

He smiled, the corners of his lips tilting up in slow, intimate gesture.

"So, what, uh, now…."

His smiled widened and he spun me around so my back was to him again.

His hands slid down my hips, under the strings of my thong. His breath fanned against the back of my neck a second before his lips touched my skin. I shivered and leaned back against him.

"You sure about this?" he said, his lips against my ear. His hands slid further down, so close.

So close.

"Sure?" He asks this now? "If you stop, I'll find your gun and shoot you too."

His movements froze. "Where's _your_ gun?"

"I know where my gun is. But I only had the one bullet and…."

He groaned and dropped his head on my shoulder. "Babe."

"Uh oh. Is that enough to make you stop?"

"Fuck no." His hands were pressed flat against my hip bones, against the hollow of my skin. His teeth nipped at my collar bone.

One hand slid up to cup my breast. His thumb brushed my nipple and I moaned and ground my ass into him. His cock rested in the cleft and he was pushed so tight against me I could feel him throbbing and pulsing. Ready.

He bit down again on my collarbone and my knees almost buckled. A rush seared through me so strong it was painful. I held my breath and waited – for it to relent, for it to lessen into a normal level of desire. But there was nothing normal here. This was desire I had never felt before.

"What did you imagine?" I said, my voice hoarse.

His left hand slid lower, brushed the front of the lace, barely-there thong. "What do you mean?"

"What, ohh—" I gasped as his fingers slid under the edge of the thong "—You said you imagined hands on me. Did you imagine your hands?"

"Yes." His tongue traced the shell of my ear.

"What were they doing?"

"This." He thrust two fingers into me in one long, smooth movement. I gasped and this time, my knees did buckle. I fell forward, but his arm was tight around my waist. With no effort, and without relenting the rhythm of his fingers, he carried me to the bed. He laid me down face-first, his body covering me from behind.

With his free hand, he yanked my shirt up, over my head and off, and scattered open-mouth kisses down my spine. His fingers were still inside of me, still moving in a slow pace designed to drive me mad.

Or make me beg.

My breath came in a gasp. "What else?"

He jerked my legs apart and settled himself between my spread-eagle thighs. "Taking you like this. Letting you scream into the pillow as loud as you can."

I wiggled my hips against his cock. "Then do it." I was ready – more than ready. Desperate, even.

"No."

"What?" I craned my neck around to see him, but he held me still with a kiss to the back of my neck.

"I said no." He pressed his hips down, ground his erection against me.

"Why the fuck not?"

His voice was low, his fingers still inside me, his lips next to my ear. "Because that's only one of the ways I'm going to take you tonight. And it's not the first way."

I couldn't reply, couldn't think. I felt his arm move, heard a pop, then a zipper rasp. The little thong disappeared with a jerk of his wrist. A second later warm skim pressed against me. I could feel the tip of his cock, poised.

He teased me with it, rubbed it against me. "Please," I said on a gasp. "Please."

His hand closed around my hip, his fingers dug in my skin. He lifted his body enough to yank me over, onto my back. His knees opened my thighs and then he was resting against me, bare skin on top of bare skin.

He was right there – right there! – but still wouldn't slide inside of me. Every part of my body was on fire, every breath sent new sparks of desire shooting through me. My fingertips tingled where I dug them into his shoulders; even my toes tingled as I wrapped my legs around his waist. I lifted my hips, tried to angle myself, but he held me still.

His lips brushed mine; I moaned and arched against him, my breasts pushed into his chest.

"First—" he punctuated his words with kisses, nipped at my bottom lip "—I'm going to take you like this. So I can see your face. So I can see you come."

He slid into me in one thrust. My breath escaped, everything inside of me froze. All I could feel was him inside of me, filling me, somehow touching every part of me. The connection that I'd craved for so long. Needed.

I let my head fall back and closed my eyes. God, yes. This is what I had been missing.

"Open your eyes. Look at me." His voice was gruff; he thrust again, deeper. Farther. Filling me more than could be possible.

He thrust again and his fingers dug into my ribs. One hand closed over my breast. I forced my eyes open and met his gaze.

His eyes were solid black, searing into me. "That's it. This is what…I imagined. This look—" he thrust again "—on your face. Every night. Every minute."

His hand slid between our bodies, found me, and my back came up off the bed. I lifted my hips, met his thrusts, clung to him. Sensations swept over my body, shimmered, heated until they exploded. I kept my eyes open. Let him watch as everything inside of me peaked and convulsed. That was all it took. His control snapped. Two more thrusts – hard, fast, enough to set me on fire all over again – and he stiffened, groaned my name and pressed his lips against mine.

I gasped for air as tremors spiraled through my body. He shifted his hips, ground the base of his cock against me, and more shudders ripped through me.

"Oh god." I pushed my hair off my face and rested my hands on his shoulder blades. "Fuck."

He chuckled. "Yeah."

He was still inside of me. I could feel him getting hard again, already. "Now what?"

He pulled out and with a hand to my hip, pushed me onto my back. His weight settled over me and one hand slid between my body and the mattress. "Now I take you this way."

God, yes. "And after that?"

"Sideways. You on top. Maybe me on top again. Against the wall. In the shower." His fingers slid against my clit, making me moan and lift my ass, push it against him. "Think that'll finally be enough?"

I grinned at him over my shoulder. "Never."

"That's what I was afraid of." He slid into me and that was all it took to send my overheated body flying again. His lips touched the back of my neck. "This, Stephanie."

I could barely hear his low voice over the rushing in my ears. He thrust again. The angle, from behind, meant he slammed against the one spot I needed him. I buried my face in the pillow and screamed.

His lips were against my ear. "I'll never get enough of this."


End file.
